


Anxious Plants Bloom Better

by InfiniteTeal



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley Loves his Houseplants (Good Omens), Gen, but they bloom, its tough love though, the houseplants lowkey have ptsd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-29 18:17:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19405615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfiniteTeal/pseuds/InfiniteTeal
Summary: The plants know what fear is, especially when one of the new succulents isn't up to par with them. Aziraphale takes a liking to the new plant that's trying it's hardest to be it's very best. Crowley has absolutely no trouble getting it there considering that he promised Aziraphale he could have it. Anxious plants just seem to grow better under stress.





	Anxious Plants Bloom Better

**Author's Note:**

> Crowley and his plants are just so important to me. This fic is heavily inspired by [this](https://eneriables.tumblr.com/post/185741211049/get-this-crowley-wants-to-get-aziraphale-some).

Crowley's plants have been known to be the most beautiful, green, and luscious plants around. They were vibrant and healthy. Usually not a brown spot in sight. There was nothing he treasured more, though "treasured" wasn't the right word to describe how he felt about them. There was a reason why the plants were so beautiful in green. Talking them wasn't Crowley's method. Yelling seemed more his style.

The plants knew what fear was. They knew what it was like to be terrified. Just even the scent of Crowley in the air made them tremble. One plant that's been there the longest didn't know how to make the trembling stop. All of them were constantly stressed. 

It was an instinct at this point, and would be spread to other plants to come.

It was always quiet when Crowley wasn't here.

The plants would brighten and grow -they were told to- healthy and strong.

The light was calming during the day. They could grow in peace. They could grow without being stressed out. But the anxiety that would be induced at the thought of Crowley coming back, when Crowley would come back, was what kept them aware.

They had to be healthy. They had to be beautiful. Or Crowley would shred them. None of them wanted that.

There wasn't a nervous feeling in the air right now, like something bad was about to happen, like they were going to experience more yelling and verbal trauma. Crowley has been gone for a few days. As always though, there's that lingering voice, a silent yelling that demanded they grow better.

They're doing their best. Their best had to be perfection.

However, there was a small plant in a white porcelain bowl that had sprouted not too long ago, just getting it's full leaves, and a flower appeared as well. Crowley had just gotten this one, but there weren't flowers around it before. Did he scare it into blooming early? None of the other plants were sure that would be okay. But the real issue was the browning of one of the small leaves.

It wasn't a spot like the one the other plant had before, it wasn't a decaying hole. No, this leaf was about to fall off but desperately hanging on by the little health it had left.

The plants were just waiting for this one to die.

So young, so new, and with a flower as well. It will be a shame.

This plant has only felt Crowley's wrath a few times, yelled at to grow faster because it was taking too long to bloom and sprout. It was doing it's best.

Was the flower an accident?

It just popped up from sheer fear.

The flower was a deep pink and it had opened up recently as more light was let into the flat. The petals were strong, and there was a small fragrance from it, the sign of a healthy blooming flower. The leaves and spikes on the stem of the flower was okay as well.

But the plant itself had one leaf, just one, that was withering away.

_Just one._

That's all it took.

The other plants were begging for that leaf to fall. If not, the entire plant should just die already. They were all going to get in trouble.

If Crowley comes back and sees it, they're all going to hear it.

They heard the door open, and then quiet footsteps on the way to the room they were in. After so long, they knew Crowley's rhythm. All the plants began to shake in their pots, their leaves trembling with fear.

_He's come back._

The plant in the porcelain bowl couldn't hide.

Crowley's coming. It was over.

But there were other footsteps. They were closer, too, like whoever it was, they were coming first.

The plants stopped shaking immediately once the angel entered the room.

There was a bright smile on his face as he clasped his hands together. He was shocked to see so many beautiful plants in one place. They were all so green and lovely, he could barely contain his happiness. He hasn't seen better looking plants

"Oh, Crowley, look." He turned back to see Crowley as he walked in.

The plants were waiting in fear, but there was so much confusion. Just from one person, there was so much love emanating from him. They haven't had that. That was different, that _felt_ different. Who was this angel and what did he want?

"What did they do?" Crowley was expecting nonsense. His gaze was covered by his glasses, but the plants could feel it.

"They're absolutely breathtaking." The angel said with a wide smile on his face.

Crowley clicked his tongue in annoyance. He didn't want to hear those words. "Don't say that, Aziraphale." he was bothered that the angel was praising the plants. They won't take anything seriously if they're praised.

Aziraphale ignored him and walked up to the tallest one, feeling the leaves gently on his fingers.

They were so green and thick.

This one looked strong, too.

Crowley took off his glasses and went to get his spray bottle. Was he going to yell with the angel here? The plants didn't shake because Aziraphale was so encouraging.

"This one is beautiful-"

"Angel, stop it!" Crowley was irritated. "Stop saying nice things!" He couldn't stand hearing it.

The plants were begging for it. The nice and caring words, encouragement from such a sweet being. Aziraphale couldn't help it. He'd extend praise where praise was due. These plants deserved it.

They almost felt loved.

The angel's blue eyes were so bright as he looked at them. That was the feeling they craved.

Crowley could feel the sudden change in the air. The plants were becoming fond of Aziraphale immediately. Their anxiety was at ease. Crowley didn't like it when he felt that. The plants should be shaking with fear. He didn't say anything, but his lip curled as he clenched the spray bottle. The second Aziraphale leaves, these plants were going to get a mouthful. Maybe if they're loosened up, they might grow better. He could only picture what could happen.

He began spraying water on the plant that was in the corner. It wasn't shaking. In fact, it was waiting for Aziraphale to come over to it and give nice words as well. Crowley sprayed again, almost vindictive and mean as he sneered at the plant.

That set it straight quickly.

It had to grow better. It won't forget.

"This one is so green." Aziraphale said to a different plant on the other side. "Absolutely marvelous."

Crowley was grinding his teeth.

He loved his dear angel. He couldn't snap at him again but if he hears one more compliment around the plants, he just might lose it.

"Oh!" Aziraphale was looking down. "And look at this little one!"

He picked up the white porcelain bowl with the small plant with one blooming flower. It was trying so hard to be as beautiful as the rest.

Crowley heard Aziraphale pick up the pot and turned to see.

The first thing his eyes saw was the brown leaf. The disgrace of a horrid spot in a room filled with so much green. It was a horrible sight.

Now, Crowley had many options at this point. He stared blankly at the plant as Aziraphale gazed at it with so much love and care. Clearly that brown leaf didn't disgust him, but Aziraphale wasn't looking at that. He thought it was such beautiful succulent. The other leaves were a deep green, almost a tint of blue at the tip. And the flower was such a deep pink. It was beautiful. But all Crowley could see was the brown leaf.

 _Is that a dead leaf?_ It sure as hell was. Crowley was going to have a field day the second Aziraphale was gone.

The other plants knew Crowley was about to lose it. They could see it in his eyes, the way his expression changed, hearing the grinding of his teeth, the way his fingers clutched much tighter on his spray bottle.

It could break with how hard he squeezed it.

He was glaring at the dead leaf, the brown curl that was hanging on by a little thread of life. If one leaf dies, they should all die.

That plant is no good.

_It just couldn't cut it._

Crowley couldn't hold it. All the plants began shaking the second he opened his mouth. "Alright-"

"Can I keep it?" Aziraphale turned to him quickly, holding the white porcelain bowl with both hands.

The plant was small but had a blooming flower and Aziraphale absolutely loved it.

"I don't think so." Crowley was going to throw that one out.

"But it would look absolutely perfect in the book shop." Aziraphale had just the spot for it. "It would still grow. I promise I'll keep it hydrated-"

"That's not the issue, dear." Crowley sighed.

Aziraphale continued to stare at him, a small smile on his face as he held out the bowl to Crowley. He was so innocent and nice. His soft glance was persuasive. The plant could feel so much love coming from the angel.

It swore to God it would grow so much better if it could go with Aziraphale.

It would promise Crowley it'd be the best.

Crowley wanted to say no. He stood back as he looked at the plant, the brown leaf an eye sore. It almost made him cringe.

He couldn't give this plant to Aziraphale.

It wasn't perfect.

Not yet at least.

His eyebrow raised slightly as he got a good idea. Well, the same idea to make this plant's time on Earth a living hell. Crowley could make it grow, that was for sure.

So by the grace of an angel, the plant was saved. But Crowley was going to make sure it took it's life seriously.

"Give me a week and you can have it, angel."

 _Oh, no._ This plant was going to grow better alright. It wasn't going anywhere until that leaf turned as green as the Garden of Eden.

"Marvelous." Aziraphale set the plant down where he found it. "I know just the place for something so beautiful-"

"Stop!" Crowley shouted. "Stop being nice to it!"

"Oh, calm down." Aziraphale said as he continued to look at his future plant.

He hadn't even noticed the brown leaf until now. He leaned closer and got a good look at the brown leaf withering at the side. He hummed quietly to himself and wondered if this was the reason why Crowley wouldn't give it to him. One leaf wasn't a big deal. That can be fixed. He lifted his hand, just about to touch the leaf, but Crowley was quick to stop him. He grabbed Aziraphale's wrist so he wouldn't perform a small miracle on the leaf.

What kind of care taker would Crowley be if he lets the angel fix the plants' mistake whenever there's a dead leaf?

Clearly he has to put the fear of God in them, not show them forgiveness of an angel.

"I said I'll take care of it." Crowley said, looking in his eyes. "Let me take care of the plants, angel."

"Alright." Aziraphale gave in.

When Crowley let go, Aziraphale fixed his bow tie and looked at the other plants. They were all so beautiful. He smiled and was about to say something nice again.

"Don't." Crowley warned him.

"I won't." Aziraphale continued to smile as he walked forward, leaving the room filled with plants.

And once the door closed, the wrath was about to begin.

Crowley just walked by the porcelain pot multiple times as he continued to spray the plants with water. He was unusually quiet. All the plants were shaking by this point, but Crowley hadn't even said anything yet.

Then he put the spray bottle down, and went to the plant in the porcelain bowl.

It was the smallest. It wasn't supposed to get that big, but at the moment it hasn't reached it's full potential.

Just _one_ blooming flower.

"Is that the best you could do?" Crowley asked quietly as he lifted the bowl up. The way he asked his question, it wasn't going to be a good day at all. The plant was anxious. Crowley wasn't going back on his word was he? Was this plant about to die? Crowley wouldn't be so cruel, would he? If only this plant knew. It was definitely about to find out. It was absolutely fearful of being moved.

Crowley set it closer to where the sunlight could reach. He stared at the plant, the brown dead leaf that was curled up close to the stem. One flick and it would fly off.

"Is this the best you could do?" Now he yelled at the plant. "You managed to have one brown leaf after I said to grow better!" He shouted. He couldn't even believe the act of disobedience. The others should've warned this one better. Now it had a dead leaf.

The plant was apologetic.

"And just one flower? You've got to be joking!"

It needed to bloom faster. It was clearly much more capable than this.

Crowley got closer to it. "You're going to Aziraphale so you better get it together, you dumb succulent." He threatened. "If you still look as pitiful as you do now in one week, you get to say goodbye to everything here."

The sheer fear was making it try to undo the death of the brown leaf.

Crowley was up quickly and he looked at the other plants that were trembling and shaking. "You better hope this one gets it together." He threatened the rest of them, too. One plant's mistake, and the entire group will get in trouble. He already gave them one chance before, and this plant failed. The only reason it was getting a second chance was because of the angel. There won't be a third chance. "I'm tired of seeing brown spots from you lot!" he shouted angrily. This was the second brown spot in a long time. " _Grow better!_ " he couldn't yell any harder than that.

The anger in his eyes was unmatched, there was a fire that could burn them all. The plants haven't seen that yet, the pure anger that resulted from one plants' failure. They were all trembling, their leaves shaking. The anxiety was getting worse, enough for them to behave. It would take a miracle for the weakest link to get it together and Crowley wouldn't let that angel do it.

All this yelling just because Aziraphale picked a favorite he wanted to keep.

The sweet angel made Crowley do this.

That favorite plant was holding the fate of the others in it's pot.

* * *

It's been one week, and Aziraphale was holding the white porcelain pot. He was promised that he could have the succulent to put in his book shop, and he finally got it. Crowley wasn't so nice when he handed it over, but Aziraphale knew it was a nice gesture.

The plant was in full bloom with more than a handful of pink fragrant flowers. It was absolutely beautiful even in the low lighting of Aziraphale's book shop. If the plant continues to grow, Aziraphale might have to change the pot.

All the leaves were green with a hint of blue at the tips.

The brown flower was no longer there. Well, it wasn't brown anymore. Imagine being so afraid that even death couldn't be an option. That brown leaf was now as green as it could be.

It had reached perfection, Aziraphale believed so.

It was beautiful.

He set the pot on a shelf where it could be the center of attention. It had it's own space on the top shelf, enough room to continue to grow and be the best plant he could be. Aziraphale clasped his hands together as he continued to stare with admiration. He thought it was beautiful where he put it.

Aziraphale doesn't yell.

He doesn't scream and shout.

Being here made the plant feel loved.

But still there was that lingering voice in the air, the kind of voice that kept it's leaves in shape, that kept it growing, that made sure the flowers continued to bloom. The anxiety it had gotten from being in Crowley's flat with never officially go away. It knew better than to believe it could slack off. That would never happen. If anything, it had to be better.

The plant remembered what this past week was like, the constant yelling and shouting and badgering and fear, and it was enough for it to behave.

_"Grow better! You're for Aziraphale, you stupid succulent!"_

Crowley's voice will always be there to make sure it grew better. After all, the plant was for Aziraphale. It couldn't be less than perfect.


End file.
